


The Worst Vacation

by Jerevinan



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: AU, Caught in the Act, Comedy, Consensual spanking, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 06:51:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11686317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jerevinan/pseuds/Jerevinan
Summary: Ignis and Noctis haven't told anyone they're a couple. And now everyone finds them together in the worst position imaginable.





	The Worst Vacation

**Author's Note:**

> Noct is 18, Ignis 20 – everyone is aged down accordingly.  
> Regis and Clarus are a couple. Maybe they married after their wives died, I don’t know, I just wanted Noctis to deal with his ~dads~ 
> 
> I'm so embarrassed I wrote this, fortunately this is the only thing like this I wrote for ignoctweek

Their vacation to Cape Caem is the worst _ever_. Noctis might never be able to face his family again. His and Ignis’ secrets are all laid bare for the others the moment the door to the bedroom swings open.

Emphasis on _bare_. Noctis’ ass is up in the air, red handprints marking the skin, as he squirms across Ignis’ lap with an erection rubbing against his lover’s thigh.

Noctis freezes as he hears the latch turn and the creak of the old door swinging open. He hears several gasps and the sound of embarrassed men clearing their throats. _Just how many of them are standing there?_

He buries his head into his arms and debates whether or not to reach for a pillow and suffocate himself.

“We heard screaming and thought Noct was hurt…” says Iris carefully.

“Come on, love,” says Regis— _fuck the Astrals_ , not him. _Anyone_ but him. There is a pause. “Iris, please stop gawking.”

“But what are they _doing?_ ”

“Iris, please,” says Clarus. A few seconds later, annoyed footsteps clomp down the stairwell. “Boys, come down when you’re decent.”

Noctis hears the door clip shut. He doesn’t move. His erection dies, but unfortunately he continues to live. And he has to face them. All of them. 

Ignis lets out a long, pained groan, and slumps over Noctis.

“Do you think we can climb out the window and steal the car?” whispers Noctis.

“I don’t think that window can open.”

Noctis lifts off Ignis’ lap and tucks himself back into his boxer briefs. He tugs his jeans back into place, for once not thrilled by the way they rub against his stinging ass. Why did his family have to interrupt when everything was getting so good?

Ignis only needs to snap a couple of buttons on his shirt, hiding the hickies Noctis left across his clavicle, and he looks fully presentable. There’s a blush painted across his cheekbones, but it isn’t like it was _his_ ass everyone caught on full display.

“Why aren’t there locks on these stupid doors?” Noctis grumbles, tilting his head back and glowering at the ceiling. “Worst vacation _ever_. I thought they were at the lighthouse!”

“Appears they returned before we could finish,” says Ignis. “You _were_ being rather loud. Iris said she thought you had been hurt.”

Noctis sits on the end of the bed beside Ignis and buries his face in his hands. “Are you sure the window won’t open?”

Ignis’ weight lift off the bed, bare feet shuffling across the floorboards. 

“No, I’m afraid the paint sealed it shut. We’d have to work at it for a while before we could get it open, and the wood looks rotted. The panes might fall out if we try.”

Noctis groans again. “My dads are going to kill me. Iris is only thirteen.”

“We should have been more careful, but it’s too late now. We ought to go downstairs and face our fate.”

“Great.” Noctis slaps his knees with his hands as he stands. “Let’s get this over with.”

There are many amused faces sitting around the table when the two descend the stairs. Prompto is the only one who bothers to look apologetic. Beside him, Gladiolus gives Noctis a thumb’s up, and Noctis responds immediately with a less appropriate gesture that earns him a stern look from Regis. 

Iris is nowhere to be found. Noctis looks for her, peering up at the opposite staircase.

“We sent her outside, if you’re wondering where Iris is,” says Clarus. “We reassured her that you weren’t aiming to hurt one another.” Clarus folds his arms across his chest. “It _was_ consensual?”

Noctis doesn’t answer. Regis clears his throat.

“Yes, sir.” Noctis stares down at his feet. A blush makes his cheekbones itch. He’s going to disown his entire family.

“You two could have asked for privacy,” says Regis. “You are adults, after all. Though I wasn’t aware you two were a pair.”

“Yeah, sit down and tell us why you kept this a secret,” agrees Gladiolus. “You _can_ sit down, can’t you, Noct? Your ass didn’t look that red.”

“Gladio, you’re free to leave,” says Regis sharply. “You can take Prompto with you, he looks terrified.”

“I’m sorry!” Prompto bumps into a chair, and Noctis looks up instinctively toward the loud noise. Prompto hurries toward the front door while Gladiolus recovers the chair from the floor. “See you, buddy, and good luck!”

Gladiolus smirks at Noctis before he follows Prompto outside.

Noctis will disown him _first_.

“We are a little sad you didn’t tell us you were dating,” says Regis softly. “Even Gladio and Prompto didn’t know.”

“No one did, your Majesty,” admits Ignis, taking a seat at the opposite end of the table from him. 

Noctis shuffles over to the chair beside him. Despite his earlier activities, he can sit down without it hurting much.

“Why hide it?”

“We weren’t hiding it,” admits Noctis as he stares at the table. “We just didn’t talk about it. It never came up.”

“Ah, even with important stuff, you won’t open up to your dads?” Clarus’ voice is warm.

“It isn’t—” Noctis hesitates. He doesn’t mean that Ignis isn’t important. “You know I suck at talking about stuff.”

“It would have been better to warn us, or put a sock on the door than have us rush to your aid only to find you…” Regis waves one hand around helplessly, as if trying to summon the best phrase out of thin air.

“If you think _you’re_ embarrassed…” Clarus sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. “There are some things a parent should never see.” His eyes shoot up suddenly, piercing Noctis. “And your sister.”

Shit, this is where Noctis' life _ends_. 

“We’ve always been straightforward with our children,” starts Clarus. “We made sure you had proper sex education. We didn’t want to punish you for experimentation or keep you in the dark about safety and consent. But I wasn’t ready to talk to Iris about…foreplay. Do I need to remind you she’s thirteen?”

Noctis shrugs helplessly. “I’m sorry…”

Clarus grunted. “You should’ve known we’d be worried if we heard you screaming. You’re never vocal when you get hurt in training. Must’ve been some spanking you were getting earlier—though Gladio’s right. It does appear you can sit down.”

“Daaaaad, make him stop!” Noctis leans over the table to make eye contact with Regis. “He’s worse than Gladio.”

“Come now, Clarus, stop teasing him. We haven’t bothered Ignis enough. It’s unfair.”

Noctis turns. Ignis’ face is redder than when they left the bedroom.

“Should we threaten him for assaulting the prince, your Highness?” asks Clarus.

“Or ask him if he’s taking advantage of his position?” quips Regis.

Noctis lets out the longest groan of his life and begins sliding out of his seat toward the safety of under the table. 

“Ignis, what are your intentions with our son?” Regis raises an eyebrow.

“This is it!” Noctis cries, throwing his hands up in the air. “This is why we didn’t tell you guys! You’ve tortured us long enough.”

Ignis clears his throat. “I agree, if I had known this would happen, we would have been more secretive.” 

Noctis glowers at his fathers, who ignore him in exchange for grinning at each other. He is going to run away on the back of a chocobo somewhere in the wilderness north of the Vesperpool, where they can never find him again, and he’s taking Ignis with him. Just in case, he’ll take Prompto, too, because marrying Gladiolus will mean having these two for in-laws.

After a few minutes of silence, Regis clears his throat.

“I’m sorry. We’re both sorry. It’s awkward for us, too.”

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Noctis grumbles.

“Perhaps this teasing will remind you to be more considerate of your time and place in the future, hmm?” Clarus raises a stern eyebrow. “We don’t want you to be ashamed—not of what you do together, and certainly not for dating each other. You didn’t do anything wrong. But Iris shouldn’t have seen it. You must be more careful around her. Regis and I—”

“Please don’t finish that sentence, Pop.”

“—wish to never see any our children in such a scene again.” Clarus growls out the rest of the words. “I wasn’t going to bring up our sex life in front of you, Noctis. _We_ know how to be discreet.”

Noctis would like to die on the spot. He’ll take any method: a punch from Titan, getting hit by Ramuh’s lightning, a sabertusk mauling him—he’s down for anything.

“Do you think they’ve learned their lesson?” Regis asks his husband.

“Noctis is sitting on his.”

“Pop!”

“Give him some mercy, Clarus.” Regis does a terrible job of covering up his laugh with his hand. _Traitor._

Clarus whips his head around and stares down Noctis in a way that makes him feel ten. It used to intimidate Noctis—it still _does_. It’s the face of a man who knows how to command; that’s probably why it was always so effective growing up. If adult Crownsguard members knew not to cross him, his children wouldn’t dare.

“This will not happen again, Noctis. We have only a few days left of vacation, and then you’ll be back with the rest of the civilized world. You can do what you like then, in the discretion of your own apartment. If the two of you feel the need to continue what you’ve started before we return home, you may drive to the motel in Taelpar. Let the poor souls there hear you. At least they’re not your relatives, and they won’t have to see it.” Clarus shakes his head. “I’m never getting that image out of my mind, am I?”

“We’ll have a drink later and try to forget it,” says Regis, reaching over to pat his hand.

Clarus doesn’t look at Regis. His eyes remain on Noctis, still severe.

“Yeah, we’ll tell you,” Noctis says, squirming not from the pain in his ass but the way Clarus makes him feel small. 

“Good!” Clarus claps him on the back and grins. It still baffles Noctis how his fathers can switch their moods from stern to friendly. “Off you go. Take a walk. Go fishing. Behave yourselves. Don’t think the lighthouse is any safer. Dinner will be in a few hours. I have steaks to marinate before I put them on the grill!”

He stands up and heads for the kitchen, and Regis nods at the doorway as if to tell them to make their getaway while they can. Noctis doesn’t hesitate. He snatches up Ignis’ hand and pulls him out the door.

Gladiolus and Iris are standing on the porch steps, leaning against the railing. Prompto is kind enough to hover near the bottom of the stairs. He offers Noctis a soft smile when he steps out, but there’s a blush across his face.

“Move,” Noctis snaps as his siblings turn to him with twin grins. “I’m not telling you a thing. I’ve disowned this entire family.”

Gladiolus snorts. “You tell our dads that?”

“No way.” Noctis shoves through the Amicitia barricade, pulling Ignis behind him. “There’s a chocobo rental nearby. Let’s go, Ignis.”

It might be too far to get to Vesperpool on chocobo, but maybe they can make it to Old Lestallum before midnight.


End file.
